


To be happy

by Anonymous



Series: All my anon works put together [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Mild Blood, Nightmares, Past Character Death, Sad, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 07:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tommy finds himself waking with nightmares every night after watching Wilbur die right in front of him.Phil finds him on one of those nights.We find comfort in those that share our pain.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: All my anon works put together [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076048
Kudos: 35
Collections: Anonymous





	To be happy

**Author's Note:**

> Ah before reading as much as i love the idea of them all being blood related its like the canon were Wil is the only child of Phil. i think the family by choice means more...or is that just me?
> 
> also no L'manburg in this. no disc wars just honestly placed in the dream smp lands.
> 
> okay thats all enjoy the angst <3

Seeing Wilbur die right before his eyes had broken him more than he could have ever imagined. He was told to be strong, be that strong, big, man that never cries and never apologizes. He was supposed to be that. But watching the life drain from Wil’s eyes changed him. He hated how it changed him. How his nights became flooded with nightmares of watching Wilbur die, seeing the blood drip from the fatal wound on his back, his smile pained as he tried to convince him he would be fine. Tommy would hear Phil yelling at them to come back but it was already too late. The sound of Phil’s heartbroken cry as he held his only son still echoed Tommy’s head, a painful reminder of what he had caused.

Tommy blamed himself. How could he not? He practically begged Wilbur to come and join him that fateful day even when he said no twice. Wilbur just had to give in to his childish brother. He just had to be the one to take the lead. He just had to be the one to fight, to lose his sword. To die, and bleed out right before him. He just had to. The images flashed by his eyes replaying every second he didn't occupy his entire mind to something. Even then sometimes it wasn't enough. He could see the way Wilbur's eyes dulled until they held nothing in them. The way his blood stained his favorite sweater. The way his last words were that of reassurance or at least he hoped, fuck he couldn’t even remember what Wil said to him, his heart pounded against his chest too loudly drowning out Wilbur’s last words. He just had to fuck up everything.

Most nights he would curl into a ball and wait the time out until pure exhaustion would knock him out. Then he would wake with tears streaming down his cheeks as quiet sobs escaped his lips. Tommy would run out of the house those nights and would find himself sitting in the last place that really felt like home to him. The bench. His and Tubbo's bench. It had been his salvation on the rougher nights where Wilbur’s screams would cry out into desperate pleas begging Tommy to save him. Those were the worst nights. 

It was one of those nights today too. Tommy was in his all too familiar fetal position on the bench crying out his sorrows and guilt into the unforgiving night sky. A part of him wishes that he would find Wilbur sitting on that bench with him. That he would rub small circles into his back just like he did when they were younger when he had a bad nightmare. That Wilbur would sing one of his lullabies and lull him into a peaceful sleep once more. Yet the night continued on only with the sounds of crickets to accompany him. The daybreak once more as Tommy sat staring out at the rushing rivers below. Nothing changed over the night. No warmth to comfort him. No Wilbur to hug him. Nothing. Just the cold morning wind blowing him gently as if urging him to go back to his bed. To try and sleep again. He knew it wouldn't work. He would forever be plagued with the nightmares. What was the point of even trying anymore? 

The sounds of clicking filled the still morning air. Tommy looked over through puffy eyes to see Phil walking over towards him. Watching the man come closer Tommy's instincts were to flee into his home to hide away from the man, yet for some reason he didn't. He glued himself to the bench watching with wide eyes as Phil sat besides him. Tommy turned back to the view before them, seeing the sky turn from it's sickly morning grey to a more natural blue. Phil let out a sigh, he felt himself stiffen. “Tubbo tells me that you haven't been sleeping lately.” the bastard snitched to the old man. Tommy let out a dry laugh at the man's words, unsure what to really say. They haven't talked much after Phil found them in that cave that day. “yeah kinda just don't try anymore.”

“You need your sleep Tommy” Phil scolded. Tommy could feel his eyes boring into the side of his face, yet he refused to meet the man's eyes. “Do you want to talk about it Tommy?” God he did. He so desperately needed to talk, but no not to him. Not to Phil. He couldn't, it wasn't right. Tommy nodded his head despite himself. He wanted to talk, he wanted to tell him about the constant nightmares that haunted his dreams. But he didn't deserve that reassurance from Phil of all people. There was no doubt that he hated him, he had to. Tommy managed to get his son killed so how could he even think about asking help for him.

He kept his mouth sealed as the words threatened to spill, he locked onto a rogue fence out in the field beyond them. “It's okay Tommy” Phil cooed calmly, his voice was soothing as ever. The emotions were going to explode from within if Tommy didn't stop him now. He didn't try to leave as Phil let his arm fall over his shoulders. “Sometimes i come here to think about him too. I think about his songs. His laugh...his smile. It hurts a lot to think about him but I know he's looking over us right now” Phil’s voice was soft as he kept his voice composed and level “but even though i know he's watching over us i still miss him dearly. I don't think I'll ever stop missing him either. And that's okay” Tommy took the chance to look over at Phil. His eyes held the same sadness as his smile did. 

“I- when i saw him that day. I felt a part of me die with him.” Tommy let muted tears fall, remembering Phil’s face when he saw what he had caused. “But Tommy the good thing is that we- as a family can continue to live on in his memory. We will be able to remember the good times while still mourning our loss of him. We can be each other's help. We can miss him together” Tommy jumped when Phil turned to look at him wiping furiously at his tear stained cheeks. Phil frowned, wiping off the tears with his thumb that Tommy had missed “I know you are this big man but you don't have to be that around me. You can let your walls fall. I won't ever judge you” his voice was small laced with unease, it only made Tommy feel worse.

Tommy let out a small cry fisting his hands on his legs trying to keep what little composure he had left. “It's just- Phil don't you hate me?” his elder let out a shocked gasp as he suddenly reached to hold Tommy in his tight warm embrace. He felt like he was suffocating as the man's chest rumbled against his squished face “no..no Tommy. I'm so sorry if I had known you thought like that i would've come sooner.” Tommy melted into the comforting warmth, only to be whining as he was pushed away by his shoulders. Phil held him at a distance his grip tight on each shoulder held in his grasp “i would never hate you Tommy. You are my son just like Wilbur and Techno are. What happened down there was no one's fault. Don't ever think i would hate you. No ever” his voice was firm as his eyes hardened. 

Phil was never the serious type only when it mattered. Tommy felt so tiny as he looked into his dark blue orbs. “I just- it's my fault Phil it i hadn't…” he faltered feeling the words leave him. “Tommy. It's not your fault. What happened down there was an accident.” he nodded yet he couldn't just believe Phil. It was his fault. Wilbur died because of him. It would've been better if he had died instead of Wil. “Please don't blame yourself Tommy. What you saw was something no one should ever have to witness.” He killed Wilbur. Wil would still be alive if it wasn't for him.

Phil released his hold on Tommy, his eyes sharp as he looked him over. “You've been eating okay?” No he hadn't. Nothing ever wanted to stay down anymore. Eating had become a chore. Something he would rather not do anymore. His silence seemed to be enough of an answer to Phil. “You have to eat Tommy, you're a growing boy.” “It's hard to eat” he admitted, digging a hole into the ground with the tip of his shoe trying to distract himself. “I know but still you have to try.” Phil’s voice was cheerful. As if Tommy hadn't killed his son. As if he didn't blame him for his death. But that wasn't right he had to.

“Why are you being so nice?” Tommy spat out glaring at the dirt wishing it would just burn into nothing as it mocked him. “Because I want to, I don't need a reason to.” this only seemed to fuel his sudden bubbling anger. “I never asked you to come and talk to me Phil.” his elder sighed beside him yet didn't say anything else. “You know you hate me, Phil just say it already.” Tommy raised his voice when he got no answer “Just say you fucking hate me. That you blame me for his death. That if i was never born then your son would still be fucking alive. Say it. Say you wish you had never found me. That you never should have brought me to your home” the tears slipped out once more as the burst of emotions surged through him. Why can't Phil just admit it? Why won't he yell at him? Tell him how much of a fuck up he is? Why was everyone trying to console him instead of blaming him? Why was he the only one angry at himself? 

The air was thick with tension ready to snap at any moment. Tommy, for the what felt like the millionth time, wiped away the stray tears that cooled his heated skin. His lungs felt like they would burst. “In the beginning-” Phil paused as if he was considering actually telling him “it was hard not to- you know, blame you.” his voice was low so quiet it was just above a whisper “i hated myself- I tried to come up with the ways i would’ve been able to save him...but he was already gone. No amount of thinking would bring him back to me. I hated that I blamed you though. It wasn't your fault. No matter how much I wanted to try and put that on you. I couldn't.” Phil let out a chuckle. “I wanted to hate you for what happened. But with time I came to realize, hating you wouldn't bring back Wil. And i know he would be upset with me if i had taken out my grief on you” 

Tommy was left agape at admission. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to process the words that left the man's mouth. “Tell dad I'm sorry” Tommy spoke without realizing, he felt his eyes go wide as he heard Wilbur's voice calling out from the depths of that memory. He felt the man beside him stiffen. Wilbur's last words. Right there. For them both to finally hear clear as day. Phil let out a choked sob, Tommy took the chance to look over and see him with his hands burying into his face. He was just as broken, if not more. A father that lost his son in something that could have been easily preventable. “I'm sorry” Tommy spoke again as the air filled with Phil's soft cries. 

It took some time for Phil to right himself. He let out a pathetic laugh “I didn't think I'd ever get to know what he had said. You were in shock when i found you” Tommy nodded absently, exhaustion hitting him like a pile of bricks. “Thank you Tommy...for being there for him in his last moments. He- he loved you so much” Phil’s voice broke along with Tommy’s heart. “You should've seen his smile when I brought you home that day. He loved you so much Tommy.” Phil seemed to get lost in the memory. Maybe- just maybe they could heal their matching wounds together. There was no harm in trying. 

“I miss him Phil.” 

“I know...I miss him too.”

The bench was heated by the rising sun as they basked together in it's warm rays.

**Author's Note:**

> well that was something huh?


End file.
